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Robin is my name, because my parents weren't sure how to spell cuckoo

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Sunrise 1978
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I am trying to figure out why i am still here. It certainly isn't fair, when around me those with a real zeal for life are dying.
I am an artist, at least, i think i am, therefore i am! I think! Anyway if i were really an artist, would i be working and doing things that aren't art? Maybe...

who will ever see this site??? but it is good practice.

My best friends son was convicted of second degree murder of his mother! How do i get that out of my head. All i can think of is her, and recall the time when i was hitting bullets with a hammer, blowin 'em up, and one grazed the side of my head. A few more centimetres and it would have killed me. We looked at each other and she said, "I'm the one who's gonna die from a bullet." She was right, but it was two bullets, the first one didn't kill her and she looked up at her 14 year old son and said, "I forgive you". He buried her in the hole he had pre-dug, just 100 metres from thier house.

Nathan
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One of the 3 apples of my eye

Carpe Diem (tomorrow)